Tang Bai Li

Volume 3 Chapter 26 The Vanishing Merit

This middle-aged man, wearing a Jiuyang square kerchief, his sleeves rolled up slightly, his rough palms stained with much blood on his clothes.

The blood was clearly not his own.

He walked down the center of the road with a blank expression, and as he passed, pedestrians parted ways.

"What's going on?"

Someone whispered, but before anyone could answer, the man suddenly struck out, a palm blast from a distance shattering the storefront of a stall selling Buddhist prayer items by the roadside. A three-meter-tall Maitreya Buddha statue enshrined there was also pulverized by this palm strike.

The sudden turn of events left the stall owner's mind blank, frozen in place as if struck by lightning.

The Buddha statue, though not made of pure gold, had cost a considerable sum. It was originally intended for the Daqian Qingquan Sect, who had already paid a deposit. Little did they expect it to be destroyed by a passing man's palm strike!

"How much money do I have to pay back..."

The shopkeeper's eyes went dark, and he sat down on the ground, weeping. But before his tears could hit the ground and shatter, a bag of gold and silver suddenly descended from the sky.

The man looked straight ahead and said, "This is your compensation. Don't make Buddha statues anymore."

The shopkeeper was stunned for a moment, stopped crying, and opened the money bag. Then he saw a pile of gleaming gold ingots.

He took out a piece, bit it, and immediately confirmed it was real gold. He then excitedly knelt on the ground and kowtowed, "Many thanks, immortal master, many thanks, immortal master!"

The man did not reply, but continued walking forward with a blank expression. Soon, he passed another Buddhist hall.

"Boom!"

After a palm strike, the hall collapsed.

The middle-aged man tossed a bag of gold to the shopkeeper, glancing at his collar and saying with disgust:

"Break off those prayer beads on your neck, and don't chant Buddha's name anymore. That thing is useless."

The shopkeeper dared not disobey. He quickly broke off his prayer beads, then, clutching the bag of gold, also knelt trembling on the ground.

The onlookers were puzzled.

Did this obviously powerful middle-aged man have a grudge against Buddhism, to be smashing Buddhist halls everywhere?

"Zou Jing, you have a lot of nerve!"

Suddenly, from the other end of the street, the entrance where the man had come, a group of monks in Buddhist robes descended from the sky.

They all had solemn expressions, their kasayas bright. The leading monk held a Zen staff, clearly a high-ranking figure in the Buddhist community.

"Zou Jing, you destroyed one hundred and thirty-two golden statues of our sect, ruined three treasure halls, and sprinkled dog's blood on the mountain path, scaring away countless pilgrims. Your sins are monstrous. Not only have you shown no remorse, but you dare to commit evil here."

"Quickly return to the sect with me to face justice!"

The old monk at the head looked at the middle-aged man with disgust and roared. His voice boomed, shaking countless people along the route into a daze, their faces pale as they fainted to the ground.

Some people stared with shock and shouted:

"It's the Tiger Roar True Man of the Daqian Qingquan Sect!"

"Why is he here!"

The middle-aged man stopped and looked at the innocent civilians around him, some stunned, some dead, and a hint of mockery appeared at the corner of his mouth as he sneered, "Killing people at will, is this what you call merit?"

The group of monks spread out, encircling the man. The old monk stood in the center, cupped his hands, and said:

"Amitabha, I am not killing people, but saving them."

"You are so perverse. If a wicked person like you were to roam the world, the consequences would be endless. I kill one person today to save a hundred or a thousand, which is immeasurable merit."

The middle-aged man sneered again, pushing out a terrifying vortex of energy with both hands. Daoist golden light surged out, instantly repelling several monks who had rushed forward by dozens of meters, causing them to spit blood.

The old monk also retreated three steps, barely stabilizing himself with his Zen staff. His face then stared at the man with shock:

"You've broken through!"

The man sneered disdainfully:

"If I hadn't wasted so much time cultivating Buddhism these past few years, I would have been a Domain Lord long ago. How could I be mixed up with scum like you."

"Take my advice, break that golden body quickly and cultivate the Dao properly. Perhaps you can break through and live a few more decades."

The old monk pointed at the man and shouted:

"You traitor, stop spouting nonsense."

"Our Daqian Qingquan Sect is a place of dual cultivation of Dao and Buddhism. We have countless True Men and eminent monks. Even Tianshi Mountain has to show us respect. Who do you think you are, to dare to slander us at will!?"

Zou Jing sneered:

"Daoist True Men, eminent Buddhist monks, are nothing more than a group of charlatans who deceive people in the martial world all day long, satisfying their selfish desires."

Upon hearing this, the monk, seeing the growing crowd, and thinking of the lost incense money, was furious. He pointed at the man and shouted:

"Zou Jing, what exactly are you unhappy about!"

"Our Daqian Qingquan Sect treated you as an honored guest, provided you with cultivation resources, and never withheld Buddhist scriptures. Is this how you repay us!?"

Zou Jing suddenly became furious. He raised his hand and unleashed a violent gust of wind, knocking the old monk back a considerable distance, causing him to spit blood.

The other monks took the opportunity to chant scriptures, forming a killing formation.

Zou Jing laughed heartily and took a step forward, shattering the formation directly.

"Buddhist scriptures, damn it all!"

"Four years ago, I joined the Daqian Qingquan Sect, abandoned the Dao and cultivated Buddhism, chanting scriptures day and night, all for the sake of my son, who had disappeared in Alfheim, to return safely. But in the end, he still died!"

The monks sneered:

"How ridiculous."

"You only chanted scriptures for four years and you truly think you have immeasurable merit? Alfheim is a forbidden land!"

"Even Domain Lords and Human Kings would not be surprised to die there. What was your son's cultivation level? You think chanting a few scriptures can save him from a forbidden land? And if you can't save him, you blame the Buddha for being ineffective?"

The old monk spoke righteously, and the surrounding crowd looked at the man blankly. Some couldn't help but chuckle, clearly thinking the old monk was right.

Whether the Buddha was effective or not was a matter of debate, and the existence of merit was also uncertain.

But without a doubt, no amount of merit could bring back a young man lost in Alfheim for four years.

The man had gone mad because of it, smashing Buddha statues everywhere, his mind clearly not working properly.

However, the next words from the man completely changed everyone's attitude.

"Of course he walked out of Alfheim." Zou Jing said, his expression returning to calm, his tone terrifyingly grim. "Not long ago, a swordsman with a cat rescued him from the dwarf kingdom."

Xu Mu raised an eyebrow upon hearing this, not expecting to be involved.

Zou Jing continued with a grim expression:

"He survived a great ordeal, and I thought my son and I could finally reunite and live a peaceful life. But unexpectedly, a landslide erupted a few days ago and crushed him!"

"My child, though not a genius, was at least a Stage Two ability user. To be crushed to death by a landslide caused by heavy rain, with such terrible luck, tell me, where is the merit of my chanting scriptures for him? What use is the Buddha!"

Zou Jing grabbed a monk by the collar and roared, as if he was going to devour him.

Those who had secretly mocked him earlier fell silent after hearing his story.

An ability user crushed to death by a landslide caused by heavy rain, that was incredibly unlucky. If a normal person encountered such a situation, they could only blame heaven's unfairness or their own bad luck.

But the problem was, Zou Jing was a Lord, and he had sincerely chanted scriptures for four years, dedicating all that merit to his deceased son.

And the son was still dead.

Crushed by a landslide, or rather, died from bad luck.

Xu Mu couldn't help but shake his head and sigh softly.

According to this account, the man's four years of chanting scriptures were in vain. It not only affected his own cultivation but also failed to save his son. It was no wonder he harbored such animosity towards Buddhism.

The old monk remained silent for a long time, then spoke softly:

"Regardless, you have violated sect rules. Even if I can't capture you today, the True Men of the Enforcement Hall will not let you go easily."

Zou Jing nodded slightly, looked up at the mist-shrouded peak ahead, and sneered, "The Enforcement Hall? Let them come to Tianshi Mountain to find me. If they dare."

The old monk's expression changed slightly:

"You intend to seek refuge with Tianshi Mountain?"

"Why would Tianshi Mountain accept you!"

Zou Jing said:

"Because I destroyed over a hundred Buddha statues of the Daqian Qingquan Sect, as well as three great halls, and burned countless scriptures."

"Because in the four years I served as an honored guest of the Daqian Qingquan Sect, I never did anything that harmed heaven or harmed the people. I was benevolent and charitable, far better than those hypocrites in the back mountain who preach morality but are actually wicked."

The old monk's face turned grim:

"Zou Jing, stop spewing venom. Which of the eminent monks of our Daqian Qingquan Sect is not a great benefactor with immeasurable merit!"

The man sneered and pointed at the onlookers: "The truth is in their hearts."

The old monk turned and scanned the crowd. Those who met his gaze flinched as if seeing a monstrous beast, quickly averting their eyes.

Some even whispered amongst themselves, discussing things he couldn't hear, but judging by their expressions, the resentment or fear the world held for the Daqian Qingquan Sect had reached a certain level.

"The merit of Buddhism is indeed real." At this moment, Jiu Xian, the Wine Immortal, spoke softly, sighing beside Xu Mu, "That man's bad luck is probably because his merit was stolen."

"This thing can be eaten?" Xu Mu was astonished. He had only heard of mice stealing offerings of oil, but how could something as ethereal as merit be stolen?

Jiu Xian clicked his tongue and said:

"The sect leader of the Daqian Qingquan Sect is named Jiuyao Zhenren. He cultivates both Dao and Buddhism, at the peak of Stage Five, extremely powerful, and is a Daoist True Man who emerged from Tianshi Mountain."

"There are rumors that under him, there are countless so-called True Men and eminent monks, but in reality, they all practice greed, lust, and are Buddhas who use Buddhism to achieve freedom. They raise ancient beasts, the Jiuyou Mengmo Beast, to consume the merit and dreams of believers."

"I initially thought these were just rumors, because the Daqian Qingquan Sect is too close to Tianshi Mountain. If the latter were truly as bad as they say, Tianshi Mountain wouldn't ignore it."

"But now, with his commotion, and looking at the reaction of the surrounding populace... perhaps those rumors are largely true."

Listening to Jiu Xian, Xu Mu couldn't help but nod in agreement: "If that's the case, then the Daqian Qingquan Sect truly deserves to die."

"Perhaps, we can start by consolidating Tianshi Mountain..."

Just as Xu Mu was pondering how to complete the task assigned to him by Zhenren Chongming, the man, still covered in blood, quietly walked past him not far away.

Then, the man suddenly stopped and turned to look at Xu Mu.

Xu Mu was taken aback and turned to look back.

The two met eyes.

"Is there something, senior?"

The man heard him and pointed to the wine gourd at Xu Mu's waist, his voice hoarse:

"I'm a little thirsty."